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For as long as Sirius can remember James has talked about what he wants his wedding to look like. What flowers were supposed to line the aisle, what coloured dress robes he’d want to wear, which song should play for his first dance.
Sirius liked to tease him about it. How he was being too romantic for his own good, how embarrassing it was to have these dreams before he even had someone to call his. James only laughed along him, before he excitedly delved into his favourite cake flavours.
Despite all the teasing, Sirius never minded. He liked the ideas. He liked the things James chose. He wasn’t too picky about which flowers, never much cared for them, so whatever James picked Sirius would be happy to go with. The idea of James in deep red dress robes made him a little warmer inside, a little giddy. Red suited James. He looked stunning every day, but dressed in red he always stood that little bit taller, shone that bit brighter. Sirius always thought how he would love to wear matching red accents. He, too, had grown rather fond of the colour. And the cake ... well, James and he had of course always agreed on that, chocolate quite clearly being the superior flavour, so Sirius never saw need to disagree with this, either. It’s only ever been the song where he butted in. “I think Just the Way You Are by Billy Joel would be a far better choice for the first dance.”
“You think so?” James had asked, delight on his face at Sirius picking up the subject.
Sirius had nodded, enthusiastic and eager, explaining the romance of it, the musical progression, the way it was just simply so much more danceable. And James had smiled, warm and lovely as ever, and had promised he’d think about it. And that had been enough to make Sirius’ heart melt.
Of course, a decade later the wedding turns out nothing as the dreams had predicted. Sure, the flowers are there, crimson and yellow adorning each of the chairs and the floor between them, mirrored in the changing of the colours on the trees outside. James looks beautiful, bright and shining in his velvet-red robes. Sirius knows that when they get to the cake later it will be exactly what James had always hoped it would be. Chocolate, rich in flavour, just as they used to steal from the kitchens back in school whenever they got the chance.
The details are there.
The parts James had never cared to mention because they were too set in stone to him, are not.
They did a small ceremony in private before the real wedding. The tears of joy mixing with sadness and desperation at the knowledge that Euphemia and Fleamont would not get to stand next to James as he’d speak his vows. Would not get to dance with either of them when the songs James picked at eleven years old would play. Too dangerous for his parents, too dangerous for anyone else attending the wedding.
Sirius sees that same sadness in James’ eyes now as well. He looks stunning, and bright, and like he’s been never happier in his life. But there, in the corner of his eyes rests the longing gaze towards two empty chairs.
Sirius grabs two glasses of champagne from a nearby table and crosses the short distance to James. “Here,” he says gently, handing one of them off. “You know they would want you to do nothing but celebrate today. Not be sad about them missing it.”
James accepts the glass gratefully and takes a generous sip. “I’m not sad,” he promises. “I had just always imagined Mum to dance with me after the first dance.”
“I know,” Sirius says solemnly. “Me too.” He had always hoped he’d get to dance with Fleamont. Another dream that won’t come true.
They both finish their glasses in silence, watching the other attendants of the wedding. It’s a small round. Nearly all their friends from school, sure, but none of the big rousing party James had always imagined. Peter and Remus are in a corner talking to Caradoc. Marlene and Dorcas interrogating Fabian about the music gently playing in the background. Gideon standing with Lily, pulling her dress straight and fixing her hair for her.
Sirius does feel it, the absence of Euphemia and Fleamont. Of Mary. Even his little brother, who back in school when James had put all those ideas of marriage into his head Sirius had still imagined would attend. Not even McGonagall could make it, which Sirius shouldn’t be as upset about as he is. But he did always see her as a bit of a mother figure, he supposes.
“Come on, Prongs,” Sirius says fondly, taking James’ empty glass from him. “Go mingle with the crowd a little. You’re getting a bit too melancholy here.”
James nods. “Yeah, you’re right. You coming with me?”
“In a moment, I’ll just drop these off somewhere and make a quick trip to the bathroom.”
James smiles warmly and leans over to give him a small kiss on the cheek. “Don’t take too long, it’s nearly time for our first dance.”
“I’ll just be a minute,” Sirius promises, a knot of nerves forming in his stomach as he walks off.
He needs a moment to compose himself. To deal with all the emotions he’s experiencing right now. Too many of them at once, happiness, and sadness, and grief all mixed together making him dizzy.
The bathroom lies on the other side of the house, away from the garden where everyone is currently gathered to celebrate. It’s silent, eerie, lonely in a way that feels rather poetic.
Sirius braces his hands on the sink, taking several deep breaths. When he looks up, the Sirius in the bathroom mirror looks back at him, dark hair tumbling down to his shoulders where his dress robes hug him gently. The crimson brooch clasping them together in the front sparkling as much as Sirius should be too, today.
He’s dreamed of this day for so long.
It’s nothing like he’d hoped it would be.
Outside the music picks up, the first notes to a love song he’s heard hundreds and thousands of times before starting to play. A song that makes him think of James in his dorm, singing on his bed. James pulling Sirius in to dance with him. James humming happily as they walk around the lake, or years later, standing in a small kitchen baking muffins together. A song so heart-achingly James Sirius’ breath catches in his throat.
He leans closer to the mirror, fixing his hair, wiping at the corner of his eye to remove some of his smudged eyeliner. He needs to go out there again. Everyone will be waiting for him. James will be waiting for him.
He still gives himself another minute of hyping himself up, but when he leaves the bathroom he is smiling, his heart hammering hard against his ribcage.
When he reaches the patio where all the guests are gathered around to watch the happy couple dance, the last notes of the song are slowly fading out.
And then Billy Joel starts playing, and Sirius’ heart forgets how to beat for a moment.
He pushes past Dorcas and Marlene and locates James in no time. He is gorgeous, the most beautiful Sirius has ever seen him, and when Sirius steps up to him the smile he gives him is bright, blinding Sirius and making him stumble in his steps. “May I have this dance, Mr Potter?” Sirius asks with a small bow, extending his hand out.
James takes it. His fingers are warm in Sirius’. Familiar. They fit right together, just as they had when they were eleven and skipping through corridors to run away from the trouble they’ve caused.
His other hand James wraps around Sirius’ waist, pulling him closer, swaying to the music just as Sirius had always imagined they would.
Sirius can’t help the tears rising in the back of his throat, threatening to find their way out of his eyes. He doesn’t want James to see, not like this, not today, and so he leans his forehead against James’ shoulder and imagines melting into him.
“I’m glad it's you,” James mumbles, pressing a kiss into Sirius’ hair.
I’m glad it’s you, echoes in Sirius’ mind. He wants to say it back, wants to say something back, but if he opens his mouth now all that would come out would be a sob.
James can feel it. Sirius knows he can, feels it in the way James pulls him closer, takes the full lead for the dance. “Thank you for becoming my family,” James whispers, and his voice is shaking too when he continues. “If it couldn’t have been my mother for this dance, it could have only ever been you.”
“I know,” Sirius whispers back. He does know. He’s grateful for it, too, even as he has to close his eyes to stop the tears from spilling.
“Thank you,” James says again, the words barely audible over the voice of Billy Joel wrapping themselves around them. “I love you.”
And, in time with the song, Sirius softly repeats, “I love you.”
That’s forever. And this, I promise from the heart.